


A Wretched Wendigo

by Melancholia7



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Betrayal, Cannibalism, Ends rather abruptly sorry, Hanni chases after Will, Hanni doesn't need saving, Hannibal captures Will, Heavy Angst, Intense, Jack isn't there to save Hannibal, M/M, Metaphors, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Psychological Horror, Rage, Someone Help Will Graham, Strangulation, Violence, Wendigo, Wendigo Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, Will ends up fighting Hanni, Will finds out about Hannibal, Will hallucinates, Will runs away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-15 10:58:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17527478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melancholia7/pseuds/Melancholia7
Summary: When Will first finds out about Hannibal, Jack isn't there to stop Will from pulling the trigger.





	A Wretched Wendigo

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Remember, this is before Hannibal's love for Will began to blossom, so Hanni won't be too pre-occupied with Will's well being.
> 
>  
> 
> Timeline: Season 1, Episode 13: Savoureux  
> Place: Abigail's house, Minnesota

“You would have become someone other than yourself.” 

Will stilled, his mind reeling in confusion yet indiscernible clarity. It was right in front of him, despite the evidence pointing everywhere but straight. He was so close, yet so far. The fox was in disguise, with its perfectly molded person suit. He could hear his voice, feel his touch, he was here. _He was right here_.

Will shuddered. It was Hannibal, it always had been him. “I know who I am.” Will rasped, sensing his psychiatrist shift behind him. “I’m not so sure that I know who you are anymore.” Cautiously, the empath turned his head to face his Wendigo, daring himself to look into its confusingly warm eyes.

Hannibal’s glistening pupils refused to meet his, trained to the ground in either disappointment or fear. Invisible hands of fear glided up Will’s torso, constricting his chest as his body began to tense in a mixture of rage and horror. “But I am certain, one of us killed Abigail.” Will rumbled, his own guttural voice ringing in his ears. He didn’t want to believe it, but he knew it was true.

“Whoever that was, killed the others.” Dr. Lecter’s eyes finally lifted, settling on the smaller male who stared at him with intensely mangled emotion. A wave of vulnerability shook Hannibal to the core, flinging him out of his façade, only to lock him in a box of transparency. However, he wasn’t surprised, and neither was Will.

The trembling empath raised his gun, gripping the hilt so tight the innards of his fingers strained for release. Hannibal’s face remained stony and uncertain as the gun tracked his slight movement. Unsure of Will’s current mental stability, the taller man moved closer to test the waters in which Will bathed in. “Are you a killer, Will?” he asked. Once he sensed a shift in perspective from the other man, he probed deeper. “You, right now. This man, standing in front of me.” Hannibal glanced down at the gun. “Is this who you really are?”

A shiver of violent rage sounded through Will. “I am who I’ve always been.” He uttered, staring into the glossy eyes of his psychiatrist. Will breathed in sharply, suddenly feeling hot under his thick jacket. He was furious and upset, it had been right in front of him, how could he have been so blind? “The scales have just fallen from my eyes.” Will’s voice trembled with barely concealed anger.

His breaths came in short bursts and a tickle of fear etched itself into his skin. “I can see you now.”

“What do you see?” Hannibal asked, his dead eyes piercing Will’s as his raspy voice filled the stale air. Will paid no heed to Dr. Lecter’s words and instead stared in transfixed horror as his psychiatrist’s true nature dawned on him. It was so clear now it was almost terrifying. But despite the fear and rage that boiled within the empath’s body, a spark of sadness eased its way in, only to blossom and shudder itself throughout Will’s entire being. It was betrayal. He had been the one to let Hannibal in.

The trembling man’s face scrunched itself into a painful look of betrayal as he stared at his psychiatrist in mixed emotions. “You have no traceable motive…” his eyes began to sting, “Which is why you were so hard to see.” Will’s heart shattered as Hannibal’s mouth hinted at a smile. It was all a game to him. “You were just…” his voice cracked as his words unintentionally reduced themselves into a whisper, “curious what I would do…” The gun shook in his hands. “You wind him up... And watch him go.”

His whole body ached with numbing agony and he screamed his frustration as his finger coiled inwards. A shot rang out as his hand jerked backwards from the recoil, causing him to step back from the sheer force of it. His Wendigo took no notice of the bullet and stepped closer to him, horns almost touching the ceiling and charcoal black skin decorating his skin. It suddenly moved forward, pushing Will back until he was pressed up against the kitchen counter in an intimate act of dominance.

Without being told, Will dropped the gun and swung his fist at his psychiatrist, whose cheekbones momentarily married his knuckles before being divorced in an explosive rush. Shoving the monster off him, Will stumbled out of the kitchen, adrenaline surging through his veins as another dose of fear wrecked his body.

A hand gripped and yanked Will’s feet from under him, sending him sprawling across the wooden floor like a rag doll. Thrashing wildly, Will kicked up at his assailant who stepped back in retreat before he snagged the empath’s trousers. Will felt himself being dragged and immediately flipped himself over before bolting to the door and out of the house. He ran, stumbling as the rocky ground dipped and peaked, not looking back once.

He heard light footsteps chasing after him and in a panic he lost his footing and almost fell, catching himself just in time on a low hanging branch. Suddenly, the light footsteps behind him turned into jarring stomps and before he knew it he was being flung to the ground. Will yelped in shock, twisting his body so that he could land on his hands. He collided with a thud, face first into the earthy soil and a stranger’s knee on his back, pressing down to prevent him from moving.

“Shhhh.” A gentle stroke to the side of his head sent shivers down Will’s spine. The man above him shifted his weight so that he could sit on the small of Will’s back to prevent the empath from kicking him. Will struggled under the weight of the bigger man, twisting and jerking his person in hopes to dislodge Hannibal or throw him off. But the psychiatrist was strong and lean and eventually Will stopped struggling, his head collapsing weakly onto the ground. In a last attempt to deter Hannibal, the cunning man let out a strangled yell in hopes someone would come to his rescue, but his mouth was quickly clamped shut by the strong hand of his assailant.

“Will.” A voice commanded him.

The empath let out a shuddering breath, blowing hot air onto Hannibal’s hand as he shifted uncomfortably. Hannibal was going to kill him. He was going to kill him and eat him.

“I’m going to let go now. Will you keep quiet for me?” The psychiatrist asked as the struggling man finally stilled.

Will gave a small nod and moments later the hand that covered his mouth retracted. He breathed in deeply, his chest straining from the weight of Hannibal. His left arm was twisted around, secured on his back by a strong hand, while his right was free and loose. His rage had disappeared, leaving him with an empty shell of broken sadness and drabs of nervous jitters.

“I didn’t want this to happen, Will.” Hannibal rumbled, his mouth inches away from the empath’s ear.

Will shivered and shifted uncomfortably. He was trembling, mainly from the cold but also from the restrained adrenaline that surged from within. He twitched as the psychiatrist’s breath ghosted across his ear, and he gave a small whine to express his discomfort.

Hannibal didn’t seem to care. Rather, he quite enjoyed holding the shivering man beneath him. It made him feel strong and in control, despite being frazzled mere moments ago. For a moment a jab of fear had spiked him, churning in his gut when Will’s body began to disappear in the thicket of the forest. But time did reverse, and the teacup that he shattered did come together. That teacup was Will, and Will was his.

The smaller man grunted uselessly, willing Hannibal to release him, but before he could open his mouth to quietly ask, there was a sharp prick in his neck and a needle was being jabbed into him. His eyes began to droop, and his body went lax, and before he knew it a darkness was welcoming him with burning cold arms.

 

-

  

Warm hands cupped his face, the fingers gingerly stroking over his cheek as he came too. Will sighed, unconsciously leaning into the touch, earning a light chuckle from the owner of the hand. His head felt heavy and his eyelids fluttered uselessly, but he managed to sharpen his mind before opening his eyes properly.

Hannibal stood over him, inches from his face and he reeled, energised with sudden fear and slight excitement. His body was still numb, and his limbs flailed around uselessly as he pulled back. The psychiatrist gripped Will’s face firmly with his fingers and forced the empath to remain still.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Will.” Hannibal told him, staring into the wide eyes of the empath.

Those words did nothing to soothe Will, instead sparking a flare of anger within him. Not only was he furious with himself for not seeing it sooner but was angry with Hannibal for manipulating him. Everything made sense now, everything that had happened to him was because of Hannibal. His psychiatrist. The one who was supposed to help him, ended up dragging him to his doom.

“You’re sick Dr. Lecter.” Will said numbly. He felt lethargic, like he had just drank coca cola after eating two bowls of spaghetti Bolognese while jumping on a trampoline. In short, he felt like shit.

The psychiatrist gave him a thin smile and crouched down so that he could level himself to Will’s height. The empath sat limply on the sofa, sagging against the cool fabric. “You’re just as sick as I am.” Hannibal stated, staring at Will impassively. 

Will tried to move his legs, but they wouldn’t work. They were as heavy as lead, stuck to the ground in a slightly uncomfortable position, but it wasn’t too bad. He needed to get out of there, but he doubted his body would let him. “Are you going to kill me?” he asked.

Hannibal quirked a faint smile. “Kill you? No. I would never kill such an interesting man such as yourself. I have, however, taken the liberty to give you something to relax your muscles. You are in good hands.”

The empath barked a half-hearted laugh. “The good hands of a cannibal?”

The doctor stared at him, a glint sparkling in his eyes. He was amused.

That pissed Will off. While he was walking on thin ice, Hannibal was watching from afar, amused and delighted. A faint bubble of anger pooled in the pit of Will’s stomach, heating up his skin and flushing his face with a blotchy pink. How dare he. _How dare he! **HOW DARE HE?**_

“Dr. Lecter…” Will’s voice trembled with barely-concealed fury. “You’ve screwed with my head for months, you sick _fuck_! Have I not entertained you enough? Must you demand more? What do you _want_ from me?”

Hannibal heaved a slow sigh. “What do I want?” he leant in even closer, pressing his lips against the top of Will’s ear, who shivered and jerked his head away at the contact. “I want… _Everything_.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure whether or not I want to make this into a series, comment if you want me to continue it, but you'll have to give me some ideas to help me develop a new plot line :)


End file.
